Van Helsing: Hidden Among the Sands
by Kaiyuga
Summary: After defeating Dracula, Van Helsing has been assigned for a new misson: He has come face to face with none other than the legendary Mummy. Van, accompanied with Carl and a new ally only by the name of Scorpion must hunt down and stop the Mummy. Now.
1. Big Ben Takes its Toll

"_Gabriel…_"

He shifted in his bed.

"_Ohhh, Gabriel…_"

"Muhhh…I killed you…."

"_Gaaaabriel…_"

He shifted harder.

"**_GABRIEL!_**" He woke up with a start.

It was raining outside of London, thunder growling in the sea of dark clouds. Van ran his fingers through his hair to calm down his breathing. It felt as though he had killed Dracula only yesterday, but in fact, it had been over five months since he had bitten Dracula's neck in his werewolf form. 

So he had done his usual thing: killing gargoyles that came to life, exterminating gremlins from plumbing works, and exorcised demons that hoarded the cathedrals; the usual stuff. Sure, he had gotten a few bruises from his work, but the bite mark still remained on his chest. 

Trying to calm his nerves down, Van got out of bed and walked to his window, watching the sheets of rain trickle down his window. A horse- drawn carriage clopped along the drenched cobblestone road as it tried to get out of the rain. Van looked to the churning clouds, and began to ask his questions once more. 

Why me, he thought. Why am I the amnesiac who has to save the world? Why don't I get any thanks? He sighed as he went over to his red leather armchair, and lifted his hat up. He started to reminisce about when he had placed it on Anna's head to keep her out of the rain.

"I hate the rain." He rubbed his thumb on the rim before dropping the hat on top of his leather coat and vest.

He still couldn't bring himself to forgive for what happened at Count Dracula's castle. The only thing that coursed through him was madness; utter chaos. He tried to stop himself, but the feral section of his mind had possessed him with an intoxicated urge to kill. Even though Anna had administered the antidote, it was a suicide attempt, and she had paid the price. 

Van shook his head as he wiped the tear that tried to escape his eye. It was the past; it could not be changed. What happened, happened. And he had to live with it, whether he liked it or not. He sat down on the edge of his bed, holding a cross between his fingers. 

It wasn't his fault…and yet, it was.

He rid himself of the thought, and placing the cross back on his nightstand, he went back to sleep.

"Oh, God, what is it this time?" Van Helsing took the notice from the floor of his apartment when evening came next day.

He tore the parchment off of the envelope, and pulled out the slip of paper.

"Oh, not again! I told them I should have just killed him and be done with it! Oh, why doesn't anybody listen!?" He grabbed his coat angrily as he threw down the notice that stated that an Irish werewolf was roaming freely in the city.

"Cian, I hate to do this." Van inserted six silver bullets into his personally made pistols, and spun the barrel into place.

He was waylaying for the werewolf to approach his next target. The creature had escaped from prison in its human form, and had already murdered ten civilians, including two cats. The murders, obviously, had been blamed on him for he was the only one present when he found what was left of the wolf's victims. He had positioned himself against the base of the west face of the Big Ben clocktower, hiding in the moon's shadow. The air was misty and held a strange electrical sense to it, making Van's hair tingle with anticipation. He knew the wolf was going to strike here so it could hide.

The creature ate the women's heart hungrily, it's beryl yellow eyes livid with feral insanity. Rabid saliva dripped from its carnivorous jaws as its yellowed fangs sung into the cardiac flesh. Its orange red mane of fur was soaked in his victim's blood, marking that his hunt was successful. 

He was about to start on the legs when he heard a click. Its pointed ears swiveled in the direction of the sound, and the wolf crouched down in the shadows of the lamplight nearby. He saw the gleam of a pistol barrel in his reflecting eyes, and prepared to lunge from above.

Van held his pistol close to his chest, his breath coming out in jets of mist. He looked around the corner to see the eleventh victim, or what the wolf hadn't finished. He smelled the blood and knew that it was a fresh kill; the werewolf had to be close. He waited patiently, trying to figure out where the creature was hiding. Was it raining?

He held out his hand to check, and what fell into it made him rigid. Sitting in the palm of his hand was blood mixed with saliva. Van swung up his pistol and fired just as the wolf lunged for him. It grazed the creature's shoulder, and it began its climb into the clocktower. Van drew out his grappling gun, and fired, catching at least a hundred feet of cord. Hooking the gun to his belt, he grabbed the wire with both hands and began running up the west face of Big Ben.

The wolf was already fifty feet out of reach, leaping ten feet a minute. It sunk its claws into the metalwork of the clock as it climbed all the way to the face. It began to rain.

Van didn't realize how high he was until he reached the rim of the west clockface. Balancing himself, he turned to see part of the face's glass smashed in. Wiping the rain out of his eyes, he entered into the organs of the clock.

Gears and chains pulsed throughout the clocktower, chinking and thumping to the tower's heartbeat.

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

He drew out his loaded pistol, and kept a steady hand as he stepped onto a large horizontal gear. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

In the shadows, a huge figure wedged itself into two gears to be kept from being seen. Van was keeping a 360° view so that he wasn't to be surprised, holding his gun outward. A sudden growl was heard, and Van swung around to face it, but saw nothing.

Tick, tock, tick, tock… 

Outside, the moon was being curtained with wispy clouds.

A chain rattled, and Van stealthily approached, pulling back the hammer. The figure rushed out, and grabbed Van's ankles, tripping him. He felt back on the rotating gear, and looked up to see a shabby man who wore very little.

"Please, Mr. Van Helsing!" The man was on his knees, his hands locked above his head in forgiveness, "don't shoot me! Please!"

"Mr. Cian McDougal, you are under arrest by the Holy Order for the murder of three men, five women and three cats, and for the escape from-" Cian looked horrified, but not at Van.

He turned to see the moon flaring through the clouds.

"If you value your life, you **will** run from me, Helsing!" The man slammed his back against a vertical gear, crying out in pain. 

Van turned back and stood shocked against the transformation. Sure, he had been one himself, but he never torn off his skin as this creature was doing. Cracking from bones only added to the madness that consumed the man's eyes. It rose up on its hind legs, and bellowed out a howlish roar, saliva flying out in all directions. Van stood firm against the creature's attempts to scare him.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but this is my job." Before he could pull the trigger, the creature leapt over his shoulders, and kicked him square in the back as it made for the rafters. 

His pistol spun out of his hand, and teetered on the edge of a gear. Van recovered from the hit, and tried to scuttle for his gun, but it fell into the heart of the clock gears. Seeing Van vulnerable, the wolf leapt for him, but drew back as a Tojo blade sliced through some of the sinew in its arm, drawing blood. What came next was a jumble of blades and claws followed by cries and howls of pain. Van had a bleeding scratch running down his left temple as he grabbed a chain that was winding upwards. The wolf leapt after him, blood smeared over the brass of the gears. Just as Van was making for the bells of the clock, he leapt off and grabbed onto a clockwork gear that made the hands turn. The wolf, however, rammed into the bell, its howls mixing with the thrum of the stricken bell. Van thought he was all right before he realized his fingers were stuck in the teeth of the gear, and it was moving inwards. The wolf was recovering as well. 

He jerked and tugged, but his hands weren't giving way. He yelled, but that wasn't going to help.

The wolf shook its head furiously as it regained its wits. It looked up and saw that Van Helsing was trapped. He hissed in pleasure, and sharpened its claws on the bell. It charged, pure hatred glaring in its beady yellow eyes. He jumped and grappled Van, unhooking his fingers before they were to be crushed in the gears, and pinned him to the South wall.

The wolf squalled in his face, blood and saliva splattering against his eyes. Van had to think quickly. The wolf raised a clawed paw and brought it down on Van's head. It let out a scream of pain as its paw thudded to the other end. Van whipped the Tojo blade away and pulled out his other pistol, and pulled the trigger. 

The wolf staggered to stand up, but it was determined to take Van with him to hell. He blindly charged for Van, and performed a lariat strike on him with his one good arm. They both fell backwards, smashing the West face to pieces as they fell five hundred feet below. The wolf shrieked its requiem as its body was smashed against the pavement below. The moon vanished behind the clouds, and Cian's body was reverted back to its human form; he was missing a hand, had a bullet wound in his chest and was covered it slash marks. The authorities and nearby pedestrians rushed over to the scene as the rain began to fall again.

Van opened his eyes, water splashing against his beaten face. He looked down to notice that he was hanging five hundred feet in the air, his arm wrapped around his grappling gun's wire. His shoulder screamed in pain, and he realized that the sudden grab of the wire had dislocated his arm from his shoulder. Blood slid off his face as he performed a one handed cross and whispered his Latin prayer.

"Murderer!"

"Look!"

Van saw heads turn to look at him hanging precariously from the ruined west face.

"**_VAN HELSING!!!_**" It almost sounded like they were idolizing him.

Reaching for his hat that was hooked on his left boot, he placed it one his head.

"You're welcome."


	2. Cairo's Desert Spirit

"Bless me, Father-"

" " -for I have sinned", yes yes. A marksmen with that phrase, I might add." Van screwed his eyes shut as the flap was drawn open to reveal Cardinal Jinette.

"First de Rose Weendow, now de West face af big Ben. What next, I wondur?!"

"Well, not to be pointing fingers, it was McDougal who smashed the West Face."

"You are driving de Holy Order insane wit your eccentric methods, and now de bounty for you has increased. We are not pleased at all by dis."

"Oh, do we have to have this conversation again?! Enough with the déjà vu already!" Not to mention that Van's shoulder still hurt like hell because it was dislocated. He badly just wanted to see Carl so that he didn't bang his head against the walls to forget that there was something wrong with his arm.

"Well, since your head 's badly wanted lately," Van's boss rose from his seat, and pushed the button that allowed Helsing to come through; "we have another mission for you."

Van rolled his eyes, and carefully walked down the steps so that his arm wouldn't shriek in pain.

"We have heard of a terrorization in Cairo. An ancient beast that has not been dealt with for thousands of years; ever since the Egyptians disappeared, really." Van just wanted him to hurry up; he was looking at the swords with an interest.

"- and we have assigned you for this mission. Godspeed."

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that last bit." Van tried not to move his arm.

"You are being sent to Cairo to confront the beast."

"Wait a minute. If it's not in our continent, it's not my problem."

"It is-" Cardinal Jinette's voice rose above his, "When five of the Order are brutally killed in trying to defeat this creature. But I know you can do this job." Van's boss smacked him in the back for good luck, but Van had trouble trying not to scream from the pain.

An explosion was heard, and a stooped figure approached Van with eyes too large to fit his face.

"Carl, what are you doing?" Van was regaining control.

"Oh, Van Helsing! What a sight to see you again." He placed a hand jauntily on Van's right shoulder, "I take it you killed Cian McDougal. You know you really should-"

"Carl."

"No really, I mean it. If you just-"

"Carl." Van's voice was rising.

"Well, I mean, you could-"

"Carl!"

"What, what? Yes, what is it?"

"Your hand….is on….my dislocated shoulder." Van's voice was calm. **WAY** too calm.

"Dislocated shoulder? Dear me, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Carl carefully took Van's arm, and in a quick scissors- like motion, Van's arm was snapped back into place.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." Van tested his fingers as they tingled from pins and needles.

"Well then. I hear your going to be traveling. Well, never hurts to be prepared. Come along." Carl scuffled off, leaving Van to only follow.

"Right, well. First things first." Carl picked up some items.

"Right, your usual stainless steel blowgun equipped ONLY with knock- out darts."

"Oh, what's the fun if all I can do is knock out this "Mummy"? Sounds like I have to return him to Red Riding Hood's house."

Carl looked shocked at what Van had said.

"If there's one thing that'll kill you in a different country, it's disrespecting their culture."

"How do you know? You inside these walls, day in, day out."

"I _have_ friends, you know."

"Oh gee, what a terrible thought." Van smirked as Carl playfully shoved him.

"Okay, here is something called an ankh." Carl held up the Egyptian key.

"Angst? Why called such a strange trinket that?"

"No no, it's pronounced A- N- K- H. Like a Conch shell. Anyway, it's said that it will open doors that no normal key can. That'll come in handy. Oh, yes, I think you'll need this again." He handed Van his silver bust shotgun, "Only I made a few adjustments. Instead of it being one bullet fired from the gun, it splices into lead shards. Good for ambushes. Also, a scarab charm," He slid the necklace over Van's head, "Ah, Egyptian scrolls; don't worry, I've translated them. A bundle of stakes; oh don't look at me like that; I'm sure no vampires are going to be roaming around in Cairo, and finally…" Carl picked up a white cat.

"Take Snowball with you."

"Snowball?!" Van looked amusedly perplexed, "What for? Does it want a piece of the action? Wants to be the next Puss in Boots?" The cat hissed undignified.

"No, actually. They say that mummies are afraid of cats; don't ask why. Right, well, good luck then." He started hobbling away.

"Carl." He could sense the condescending tone in Van's voice.

"_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no_." It was like he was chanting vespers for the evening.

"No use hiding; you're coming with me."

(_Why me?_) Carl bowed his head, and his bouncy demeanor vanished like a flickering candle flame.

__

Some time later…

"Do you think this is a bit too much?"

"Only one way to find out."

"Oh, alright."

Carl came out from behind the changing screen. Van stifled a laugh as Carl was checking over himself. He was wearing more garments than one could carry and nothing matched.

"Carl, get over here." Van started to remove garments and rearranging items so at least he would pass as a visitor.

"What about you?"

"Oh, I think I'm prepared." Van placed his hat nonchalantly on top of his night black hair as he spoke, picking up his rucksack.

Their caravel had taken sail, and was leaving the London Harbor.

"Oh, good God." Carl rushed to the railing on the side of the boat, and threw his upper torso over the edge.

Van shook his head as he turned to see the harbor vanish like the apparitions of a dream.

__

Upon reaching Cairo…

The sun screamed in their faces as they approached Cairo. Palm trees and sand were tamed by this plot of civilized land as merchant ships and themselves were bustling through the docks and city.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right, wearing all that black? I don't think you've notice, but you stand out in the crowd." The two disembarked from the caravel; Van tipped the rim of his hat down from the merciless sun.

Snowball looked **_VERY_** disgruntled at the face that it had traveled in what looked to be an abandoned lobster cage.

"What an odd place. I mean, I've never seen such architecture before. And, and…"Van grabbed Carl by his Arabic "caol".

"Are you always this chatty?" Their conversation was cut short when a scream was heard.

Crowds scrambled to safety as a jet-black creature loomed over its intended victim. Van pulled out his gas- propelled crossbow, and took aim.

"What du yu tink you are dooing?" Van turned to see an Arab staring at him, "Yu doo not interfere with his mealtime, tis very bad omen, it is."

"Well, excuse me if I cut his bill short." Van pulled the trigger and let out a hailstorm of bolts.

Whatever the black creature was, it scuttled off, the bolts harmlessly bouncing off of its black exoskeleton. It squalled an ear-piercing screech as it retreated into the sewer pipes of the city.

"Damn, it got away." Van lowered his crossbow, and noticed that suffocating crowds draw closer.

"Do you always have to draw attention to yourself?" Carl was shifting towards Van.

"Well, you gotta kill the thing somehow." Van started to back away, lifting up his rucksack.

"He has angered the Desert Spirit!"

"Now he will come for us all in our beds!"

"Who is that stranger?!"

"Popularity gets the better of you, doesn't it?"

"Don't ixnay it, Carl." Van was ready to make a pathway when a voice spoke up.

"Let thes man pass, along with hes manservant." The stranger spoke with a Spaniard accent.

Carl was infuriated at the man's comment, but Van held out a hand to stop him from breaking the Sixth Commandment. The crowd backed away to reveal, well…not much.

He was mostly cloaked in thick white cloth that was torn at the bottom, save for where his eyes were shown. From what Van could see, this man was in his early twenties and lanky for his stature.

"Forgive Cairo, traveler. They are not used to prominent strangers. You can pass." The figure bowed, and a lock of white hair slipped from the mask of clothing.

Van took little notice of it as he lowered the rim of his hat even more. Something didn't feel right.

The harbor almost felt…dead.


	3. Wild Escape

Disclaimer: One little note before you people start correcting me. I know "Van" is a middle name (Dutch, I believe) but I use it as a shortcut in writing him name instead of writing GVH all the time. AND I DON'T OWN **VAN HELSING**!!!! WAHHHHHHHH, NO FAIR!!!!!  
  
_Spanish Translations:  
_  
**Verdugo**- hangman  
  
**Pido otra vez**- I ask again  
  
**¡Debo haber sabido!** - I should have known!  
  
**¿Por qué está usted aquí?** - Why are you here?  
  
**Ahora**- now  
  
**Pregunta**- question  
  
**Por la vez última**- For the last time  
  
**Qué sucederá, suceder**- What will happen, will happen  
  
**Pozo hecho**- Well done  
  
.................................................................................................................................................  
  
"I don't think the city likes us." Carl was trying to adjust his wrists in the shackles that pinned him to the cell wall.  
  
"Ya think?" Van wasn't getting anywhere either.  
  
What happened?! First thing, he and Carl were making their way into the city, the next, knocked out apparently, for Van felt a slight sting on the back of his head. Moonlight glared through their cell bars at a slant.  
  
So what? He had tried to defend some townie for getting their guts sucked out of them, but evidently, they were against prevention. Van sighed as he tried to make himself comfortable but having his wrists soldered to the wall, his shoulders quite hurt.  
  
"I think we gave the wrong impression." Carl looked out his cell window.  
  
"Would you look at that." Carl sounded awed.  
  
"Well, I would but I'm kinda CHAINED TO THE WALL!"  
  
"Oh, sorry. Well, it seems we're having a visitor." Surrounded by five bodyguards, the man cloaked in white marched rather hurriedly to the jailhouse.  
  
A few minutes later, the jingling of keys was heard, and the iron door swung open to let the cloaked man inside.  
  
"So, they were tru! Ie knew there was somesing wrong when Ie lay eyes on yu. Yu are none other than Gabriel Van Helsing; thei demon slaiyer! ¡Debo haber sabido!" Van flailed a hand as if to tip his missing hat in salutation.  
  
"¿Por qué está usted aquí? Who sent you!? Answer me!"  
  
"Well, I could if you'd speak plain." The man rushed right up into Van's face, his eyes glaring in the moon's ray.  
  
In the slits from the cloth mask, Van noticed the stranger's eyes gleamed like a Tiger's Eye stone.  
  
"Either you geeve me some answers, or Ie'll let thei verdugo get ready. I want answers, ahora!"  
  
"Don't you know any English?"  
  
"Since yu want to spleet hairs, Meester Van Helsing, we'll start 'ff with thei easiest pregunta. Why are yu here?!"  
  
"Ah, some straight questions. Why? Can't say, except on vacation."  
  
"Yes, you're so quick to give us questions, what about you?" Carl lifted his nose in a snobbish way, "What's your name?"  
  
"My name es of no emportance to yu!" Spat the stranger, his eyes flashing angrily, "Pido otra vez, why are yu here?!"  
  
"I told you; sightseeing."  
  
"A man does not come to "sightsee" with an arsenal- in- a- bag equeepped with 'im. Unless eet ees a new fashion that Ie was unaware 'of. Por la vez última, who sent you?!"  
  
Van kept silent, his eyes half open and relaxed against the man's glittering glare. He leaned back, exhaling deeply.  
  
"Qué sucederá, sucederá. Yu ave made ae foolish deecision, Van Helsing." The figure walked out and slammed the door behind him like a condemning sentence that had been passed.  
  
A few silent moments passed.  
  
"Well, that went well." Carl looked frightened at how relaxed Van was at saying that.  
  
"B- but, we're going to be hanged tomorrow!"  
  
"Oh, we'll see." Van grinned, giving the _I- know- something- that- you- don't- know_ look.  
  
**_That Morning..._  
**  
"You were saying, Van Helsing?" Both of their wrists were tied as the boa thick rope hung from their necklace like a poisonous snake.  
  
"I've had worse, Carl. Trust me."  
  
"**Trust **_you_?! Well, maybe I've called you an arrogant, reckless popinjay, but this unbelievable!"  
  
"I didn't know you called me an arrogant, reckless popinjay."  
  
"Well, not to your face."  
  
An Egyptian man dressed in khaki uniform marched out from his guard booth, his sword glimmering in the dawning sun. Van tried to move his wrists, but the bonds were well taut. The sergeant started shouting commands to the hangman, dressed in the classic black tunic and balaclava. Van noticed his arsenal bag being held by a captain, pillaging through to find anything of worth.  
  
"Oh, he's going to get it _**SOOO**_ bad!" Van jerked his wrists violently, and his coat sleeve came loose.  
  
"I didn't think it would come to this!" Carl screwed his eyes shut.  
  
"Neither did I!" Van didn't show a hint of hesitation.  
  
Three...  
  
Two...  
  
**ONE!  
**  
Carl opened his eyes to see himself wearing a loose noose. He torn it from his neck, and saw that the rope had been cut off cleanly.  
  
Van, meanwhile, was making a mad dash for his bag, slicing guards with his melee Tojo blades. He heard gunfire, and noticed that a squad had been requested and were firing with their Winchester rifles. Doing a cycle of hopping somersaults, Van grabbed his revolver in mid jump and fired six times, each hitting a guard that either killed them or crippled them. Landing behind the hanging stage, Van reloaded, thanks to the box of bullets he had snatched up as well. Waiting for them to stop firing to reload, Van whipped out from behind the post, and fired desperado- style.  
  
"Carl, keep down!"  
  
"No sht!"  
  
"Carl, what did I say about you cursing?!" Van was still firing.  
  
"I'm still just a friar, dammit!"  
  
"Just stay down!"  
  
Van advanced on the squad, dodging bullets like a snake. When he had made a path, Van hurtled for his shotgun. Its silver bust gleamed in the grip of the captain, who suffered a deep scratch mark from the claw gauntlets that slid over Van's hands instantly. They came in handy when he was hunting Hyde, so why not use them again? Flipping the shotgun upright with his foot, Van pulled back the loading spring, and fired.  
  
It was like he had released a lead storm of needles. The men that had been standing only moments ago were now dead, their bodies and faces covered in lead pinpricks stained with their blood. Carl looked up over the post, trembling from how close he had came to being claimed as the bullet's victim.  
  
"You alright, Carl?" Van was breathing hard from the tango of bullets and blood.  
  
Carl unleashed a harem of curse and swear words from every language he knew. Van tsked mockingly.  
  
"You've got some explaining to do when we report to Cardinal Jinette." He rested the barrel of his shotgun on his shoulder, but suddenly winced.  
  
"Van Helsing? Van Helsing, are you alright?!" Carl rushed over to Van's aid.  
  
He was on one knee, his hand gripped around his side. He pulled away to reveal blood and a bullet wound in his side.  
  
"I'll be alright." He managed to say, pulling himself up with the help of Carl.  
  
Van was gently balanced against the wall of the bloodstained building as Carl dressed Van's wound.  
  
Over the corner of the barbed wire wall, something whit vanished over the edge.  
  
"Pozo hecho, Van Helsing. Yu could just be able tu defeat heem. "  
  
**_Some Time Later..._**  
  
"Great, now we're branded as fugitives. What next; horse thieving?"  
  
"Good idea."  
  
Van and Carl snuck behind a stack of water kegs, watching as a line of guards rushed in the direction they came in, shouting Egyptian phrases as they went.  
  
"_Okay, let's go_." Both started for the stables when a cry was heard.  
  
"Oh, great." Van took out his revolvers, "Carl, run!"  
  
"You don't need to tell me that!" Carl ducked and ran to the nearest horse.  
  
A hoard of guards were charging down the bazaar path, their halberds gleaming in the desert sun. Not wanting to kill anyone else, Van shot their weapons out of their hands. He was doing pretty well.  
  
Until the pain in his wound got to him.  
  
He faltered and fell to his knee, trying to overcome the bleeding explosions of pain. A guard who hadn't been disarmed charged for Van, his halberd swinging in the air. Van rolled out of the way, and slammed his foot into the guard's chin, blood flying from the cracks in his teeth. Van shakily got up, and whipped out his Tojo blades. Looks like combat was needed.  
  
Carl was busy saddling up two horses, praying for forgiveness every few seconds.  
  
"_I can't **believe** what I am doing_!"  
  
Van was fending off guards as though they were little children, if that. Two guards pushed Van back with their sabers, but Van parried their attack with the blades. One, unfortunately, had not been disarmed when Van was shooting, and slammed the hilt of his sword into Van's wounded side. He gasped for breath as he fell to his knees, letting his arms drop to the dirt paths. One soldier grabbed a fistful of Van's espresso brown hair, and placed the blade of his sword against Van's Adam's apple. He swung his sword up, and brought it to Van's neck for the decapitation. Van screwed his eyes shut and her a sword.  
  
Van looked to see that his head was still on. The soldier who was to kill him lay stunned on the ground, a rusted horseshoe next to his head.  
  
"Van Helsing, keep your head on!" Carl flung another horseshoe like a lethal boomerang at another soldier.  
  
Guards lay dazed and bloodied but not dead.  
  
"Well, I think that's it for them." Carl was tugging Van's sleeve violently as he stared ahead.  
  
"I think not." A barricade of soldiers now filled the alleyway, each armed with a Winchester.  
  
"I think that's our by your leave, Carl!" Van grabbed Carl's caol, and leapt onto a saddled black horse while Carl landed on a chestnut brown.  
  
"HYA!" Both horses cried out in surprise, and rammed right through the human barrier.  
  
They weaved their way through the labyrinth of bazaar paths, dodging bullets and leaping over carts. People ran into shops as the two wanted galloped for their lives. The double doors gates to Cairo were in view.  
  
"We've going to make it; God be praised!" Carl was jumping the gun.  
  
"Praised for locking us in, I take it?" Carl looked over Van's shoulder as saw the giant doors slowly close.  
  
The horses skidded to a halt, rising up on their hind legs as the neighed and hoofed at the door, but it was no use.  
  
"Turn around! TURN AROUND!" Waiting for them was a cluster of guards.  
  
"Oh boy."  
  
The leader of the squad demanded something in Egyptian. The soldiers pulled out some sort of dagger from their army vests, and attached it to the endpoints of their rifles; bandoleers. They lowered their guns forward, crying out a war shout to intimidate the two. Well, Carl needed to use the facilities ASAP. Van was just stoic to their shouts. He went into his inside holster to take out his revolver when the men suddenly faltered.  
  
"Desert Spirit!"  
  
"Run for your lives!"  
  
A behemoth shadow soared over Van and Carl's heads and from the sudden explosion of dust and chaos, Van couldn't make out the shadow that was towering over them.  
  
"RUN!"  
  
"Don't you mean-"  
  
"**RUN**!!" The horses galloped, but not back down the road.  
  
Instead, they hopped onto what looked like stepping- stones up onto the roofs of Cairo. Van heard the soldiers below scream as the shadow consumed them, while others managed to escape from the creature's grasp. They began to fire as Carl and Van, reloading every few seconds like a man on the brink of insanity.  
  
"I don't think this was a good idea!" Carl practically hugged the horse's neck as they cantered.  
  
"What makes you say so?" It was like he was asking for a death wish.  
  
The wooden roof suddenly collapsed underneath Van, and him and his horse fell to the level below.  
  
"Van Helsing!"  
  
"Just keep going; I'll catch up!" Carl grit his teeth, and pressed onwards, avoiding bullets.  
  
Van was racing blindly through streets covered in hazy mist and many torn red banners that had been used for shade. The guards had finally gotten smart; they were chasing after Van and Carl on horseback now. He ducked gunfire as he sprinted through the poorer section of the bazaar. He noticed something odd up ahead. It took nanoseconds for him to realize it was a fork.  
  
"Carl! CARL! Quick, left or right!"  
  
"Where do you want to go?" Carl's voice sounded faint.  
  
"OUT!"  
  
"Well, I'm not sure if that's right or-"  
  
"WHICH WAY!?"  
  
"Uh, ummmm..."  
  
"**_WHICH WAY_**!?"  
  
"Uh, right! No no, wait, left, NO, uh."  
  
"**_WHERE_**?!"  
  
"RIGHT!"  
  
Van yanked on the reins, and the horse veered right while some guards crashed right into a fruit stand. Van looked through the mid rafters to see Carl catching up with him.  
  
"When I say which way, I need an answer immediately!"  
  
"Well, ex- cuuuuse me!"  
  
Van grinned as he pulled up his face bandana, and found another set of stones to hop up onto.  
  
"Ah, Carl. Long time, no see."  
  
"I don' think it's the time to be making jokes, Van Helsing!" They saw the rim of the city, but not only was it fifty feet in the air, but guards were setting up a blockade. Van looked behind him to see the horsemen back on their feet and in full gallop. Van went into his coat, and threw out a bundle of sharp objects.  
  
"Where on _earth_ did you get caltrops?"  
  
"Picked them up when I was serving for Empress Maud."  
  
"_Empress Maud_?! That dates back to the tenth century!"  
  
"Well, you asked!"  
  
He heard the horses behind him whine and knew they had fallen in the trap. Now it was just to get out that was the hard part. Van saw a guard post nearby, and already a plan was formulating in his mind.  
  
"Carl, when I say to," His hand went back into his coat, "Jump."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You heard me. When I say to, jump."  
  
"Onto what?!"  
  
Van secretly grinned as he whipped out his grappling gun, and taking careful aim, fired. The hook went right through the guard's heart and grappled onto the other end. Van hooked the gun onto his belt, and kicked his heels hard into the horse.  
  
"Vada." He whispered into the horse's ear.  
  
The horse screeched and now was ramming its hooves into the roofs as it hurtled to the wooden barrier of pikes that had been laid. At the last moment before impact, the horse leapt into the air.  
  
"JUMP!"  
  
Carl flung himself onto Van's horse as he drew in the grappling cord. The horse was now nine feet in midair, thanks to Van, and well over the pikes. The other horse had stopped, and in skittishness, started ramming guards in their gut as they tried to control it.  
  
"Grab hold!" Carl wrapped his hands around Van's waist as the saddle left their legs, and the horse fell fifty feet into the harbor of the Nile. A few seconds after the splash, the horse popped its head out of the water, and started shaking excess off.  
  
Meanwhile, fifty feet in the air, Van and Carl were swaying in the air.  
  
"Well, that wasn't as bad as I expected it to be." Van smirked seeing Carl's pallid face of horror mixed with relief.  
  
"W- w- well, n- now that we-we've sorted th- that out...HOW DO WE GET DOWN!?"  
  
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!" Holding the gun with one hand, Van released a claw gauntlet and grabbed onto the limestone behind him. Yanking the grapple loose, he fired to a limestone harbor pillar.  
  
"Hang on tight." He let go of the stone.  
  
Carl yelled as Van skillfully swung two hundred feet across the Nile harbor with his legs in front of him as though he was on a swing, and bounced off the pillar with ease as his grappling wire came loose and wound back up into the container of the gun. At the same time, Van's horse was salvaging itself from the water.  
  
"Well, that was fun." He turned to face Carl, and was stunned by his appearance.  
  
Carl teetered for a moment, said the blackest curse in Latin, and fainted. Van caught him before he smashed his nose into the limestone, and hoisted him onto his horse.  
  
"I guess you were telling the truth when you said you weren't a field man."  
  
Van grinned as he rode off into the midday sun.  
  
Though he shouldn't have.


	4. Roasted Helsing, Anyone?

One minor note: ARRRRGGGGGHHHH!! I know "Van" is a Dutch last name! I STATED IT IN MY LAST CHAPTER!!!! I use it as a SHORTCUT in my writing! {Gets it together} Okay, clam down. I'm fine……AHHHHHHHH!!! {Charges after unseen object with Van's claw gauntlets.}

Audience: O.o? Uhhhhhh……..riiiiiiiight. Let's get on with the fanfic., shall we?

Kaiyuga: Huh? Oh, right! Yes, I just wanted to clear that up…AGAIN. Right…. {Trails off}

Audience: …

Kaiyuga: What was I saying?

Audience: O!!

Kaiyuga: Oh yeah! VH fanfic.! Here ya folks are! Go **HyperCaz, Edge23 **and **chibichibi386!!!!** Thank you for being the first to review!!! Thanks! Oh, thanks, **JML**, for telling me it's the Sixth commandment, not the fifth (I thought it was too. oO?)!

* * *

"What in God's name-?!" Van got off his horse as the shadow rose from the sand dunes, its black organic armor gleaming in the shrieking sun.

It clicked it's pedipalps with a scissors- like sound, rising up on its back pair of legs. Its shelled abdomen swallowed up the sun behind it, and Van could sense it was giving a look at him through its six pairs of eyes. It gnashed on its mandibles, saliva dripping from in-between its appendages. It stinger was lifted up behind the beast, poised to strike like a snake advancing on its prey. Van knew his adversary was too strong, and tried to run back to his horse, but a sudden cage of obelisks told him otherwise. He tried to go through them, but an invisible barrier had been placed between each pillar. Leaving a stupefied Carl centimeters away, he faced the creature.

It hissed at him, waiting for him to fire first. They stared at each other for what seemed like eons, when in reality, it had only been ten seconds. Van drew out his pistols and fired like mad. The beast still stood there, unaffected to what Van had done. He almost felt as though the creature was…….scoffing at him. But it's a beast; it has no emotions except bloodlust. The creature drove its claws into the sand, and instantly, sinkholes began to swirl into view. Van dodged the first one, but felt his left leg being tugged into another. He yanked his leg out with both hands, and ran to avoid the others that befell upon the "arena". He fired as he circled the place, the creature turning to each bullet. His gun suddenly ran out of lead, so Van, still running, pulled out twelve new bullets that Carl had created for him when he had faced zombies. He slid them into the barrel and spun them closed.

He fired twice, once from each gun. The glass bullets smashed on the creature's hard back. It squalled in pain as caps of fire burst from the areas it had been hit.

"Well, Carl. I'll give you praise for your Glycerin 48 bullets, but I don't think that's stopped him." The fires died out, and the shell remained unmarred.

The creature slowly wheeled around to face Van, its beady black eyes changing to a blood red. It retracted into itself and with a shriek, a second set of pincers burst from its back. A second stinger took its place next to the once solo one.

"Uh oh." The creature charged, slamming one of its huge claws into Van.

The force was unreal; Van could still feel the very hairs from its claw as he flew into an obelisk. The creature hissed, opening its mouth wide to reveal saliva stained fangs covered in thousands of tiny spider mandibles. Its lower body sank into a sinkhole, and Van knew it was trouble, even though he was trying to recover for the throw. He heard a rumble in the sand, and leapt back as a black stinger shot through the ground, its neurtoxic venom dripping from the single hooked barb. Van heard the digging sound again, and dodged the other stinger.

Van was now fighting in a barb minefield, not knowing where the stinger would strike next. He rolled around in the sand as the barbs shot up, and in between rolls, his Tojo blades slid into his hands. He pressed on the rotating gear to get the saw blades going, and as he saw the stingers appear, and swiped at the barb. He heard the creature squeal in pain, and a sappy green liquid oozed from it's sliced tail; poison. The creature pulled itself out from the hole, and charged on all sixes, mouth wide open for the kill. Van pulled out his crossbow, and fired a stream of pikes right into the creature's mouth.

"That should put him on a diet." The creature reared up as it tried to pull out the arrows.

Van was ready to do his Latin prayer when he heard a disgusting sound that made his stomach lurch. The creature was suddenly covered in its own blood, arrows and bones falling to the ground. It had regurgitated up the arrows that had tried to kill it. The creature, amazing for its size, leapt back and started to climb up the obelisks. Van noticed something white on one of the creatures plates, but didn't have the time to stare for the creature sprung from its position like a mousetrap, and smashed right on top of him. The creature's right pincer went right through Van's bullet wound as it pinned him to the sand like a butterfly in a display cabinet.

He screamed. But it wasn't just a scream. It was an inhuman scream; disconnected from body an soul as though a different persona was taking hold. Every ounce of sanity he knew was swept away in the scream; he didn't care if he was in pain, he didn't care if he didn't get out, he didn't care if he got killed. He was for bloodlust only, and this creature would pay his price. A ring of yellow appeared around the irises of his deep brown eyes.

As Van screamed, he swung his claw gauntlet right through the pincer. It was mostly hollow save for the few severed nerves Van had sliced through. The creature retreated as it squalled in excruciating pain. Van tore himself from the buried pincer that was till twitching, spilling red onto the tan yellow sand. Twelve fiery red eyes focused in on the life- force that was spewing from its prey. It charged, its stinger swaying in sync with each three legs that moved.

Van stood with one leg forward, waiting until the last moment. He had a chip on his shoulder as the other arm slinked downwards. The creature dived, its jaws wide open for the kill. Van jumped high into the air, and landed on top of the creature's head. With his gauntlets, he clawed out a quarter of the creature's eyes, black blood spilling from the popped membranes. The creature shrieked as it's back pair of claws yanked Van from its head, and threw him high into the air. With its good stinger, it batted Van like a baseball into another obelisk. Catching him before he fell, the creature tossed him back up into the air like a cat with a mouse, and opened its salivated jaws to swallow Van whole. As he stayed in mid air for a nanosecond, a ribbon of blood trailed behind him as he fell. As the creature's jaw was coming into view, Van pulled out his Tojo blades, and sliced off the two largest mandibles. The creature ducked down, letting Van land catlike on the sand.

The sounds that came from the creature were unreal as it started to retreat into the sand. Van started to go after it when the yellow in his eyes vanished, and he finally took notice of his surroundings. The obelisks sunk back into the sand as though they were never there. As his adrenaline wore down, Van noticed that he was bleeding a pint per minute. He fell silently onto the sand, coughing quietly as he tried to pressure the bleeding.

"Van Helsing? _Van Helsing_?! **_Van Helsing_**!" Carl's voice grew louder and louder until he was right on top of Van.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he tried to talk, but instead he went back to weak coughing. Van felt himself being lifted up by Carl and literally dragged to his horse.

"We….can't…go back to….Cairo…" Van managed to say before blood spoke his words.

"I know. And I wished I had brought a map!" Van looked enraged as he tried to look at Carl.

"You... _what_?" Van said it so coldly that the desert sun froze.

Carl stammered, trying to explain that he had intended to get a map in the city but they were caught, so chances of getting one were slim from there on. Van felt like getting beaten up by the creature again, but for the sudden emptiness he felt and the pain that replaced it, Van could only strive to breathe. He was clumsily hoisted up onto his horse, and Carl mounted behind him.

"Now, maybe we should go east. I think there's a village there."

"You……think?"

"Well, its worth trying."

Van dropped his head in surrender.

"Right, let's go." Carl headed towards the setting sun.

"Carl……that's west…." Carl jerked on the reins.

"I always get the phrase messed up!" Carl turned and began it trek across the desert.

* * *

When you're lost in the desert and have bled too much, hallucinations are never a good sign.

Van's chin was resting on his chest, his hat protecting his head from the sun. Breathing took every bit of strength he had left, leaving his extremities limp. He forced to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids fell every few seconds.

He heard voices in his head; some cold, daunting, and serpentine, others anguished, mournful and full of sorrow. Each called for his name; screaming it, whistling it, crying it out. But one voice stood out.

"_Gaaaabrielllllllll_…."

It cooed with such ice that stole the warmth from Van's blood.

"_Gaaaaabrieeeeeelllllllll………_"

Then another came.

"_You killed him! You killed my brother! Why, Van Helsing?! WHY!?_"

This wasn't happening…

"**_MURDERER!!!_**"

Go away…

"_He has been bitten! Bitten by a werewolf! Now you will become that which you have hunted_…"

Leave me be…

"_We have such history…You and I…_"

I don't care…

"_We…we could be…friends! Brothers in arms!_"

Never…

"_S- she's dead…_"

No…

"_Dead…_"

No…please, God, no…

"_Anna…_"

**_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!_**

He heard himself scream these words, whether it came from his mouth or mind. He fell from the horse, his body spread out like a corpse.

"Van Helsing!" Carl sounded oceans away.

In his half- open eyes, a tear fell from the corner.

"Come…We're……I know…...!" Van's ears were dying away from Carl's voice.

He felt a cold liquid rush down his throat and he coughed.

"Van Helsing, are you alright?" Van nodded slightly.

"Oh, thank God! I thought I had lost you. Come on, I know we're getting close." Carl helped Van back on the horse, and they continued.

* * *

"You don't have…….a clue…..as to where….we are…do you?"

"I never said that; I just said that I thought I saw that sand dune earlier."

"In other words…..we're lost…"

Carl stayed silent and continued. After an hour or so, the canteen that Carl had strapped on the horse's saddlebags was fresh out of water.

"Great…"

The three of them wander aimlessly around in the sand. Did deserts EVER have a night? The sun devoured their sanity, sweat coming forth like waterfalls.

* * *

Carl was the first to fall off. The horse neighed as Van turned his head around to stare at Carl's inert shape. He wanted so hard to get off and help him, but in his semi- meditate state, he had shut off his arms and legs. Soon, the horse collapsed too, making Van topple over its head and fall to his side with his legs sprawled out in front of him. The three of them lay there, the sand creating their coffins. From afar, Van looked like he had been dead for several hours.

His throat screamed for water, but none came. His stomach whined for food, but nothing would satisfy. His lungs choked for air, but no ounce could pass. He begged for an instant death, yet it would not yield to his request. He hacked violently, and crimson spilt upon the fine grains. He gagged on his own blood before he finally gave in, and his world swirled into darkness.

* * *

"_I can always judge a man's character by the sound of his heartbeat._" He began to drum his leathered hands together, faster and faster as he spoke, "_I always can tell, when I am close to them_." He slowed down to a soft padding, "_Strange that yours…is so steady…_"

In a gleam of silver, the stake was rammed through his heart. He screamed in pain, and watched as Van performed his Latin prayer. A sudden grin swapped his face.

"_Hello, Gabriel._"

He tried to back away.

"_Is this your silver stake?_" He tossed it aside.

"How do you know me?"

"_You don't remember, do you?_" He approached Van, laughing deep within his throat.

Stay away from me…

"_Let me refresh your memory…_"

I said no…

"_Gabriel_…"

STOP IT!

"_You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!_"

I did…

"_Some say you are a holy man…_"

I was…

"_Others say you are a murderer._"

I am…

"_Which is it?_"

I…don't know….

****

My life, my job, my curse…

"_And did you tell them, that the only way to kill me, is with a silver bullet?! Huh?! HUH?!_"

"_No…I left you out…_"

I'm so sorry…

The first stroke of midnight…

"_One._"

He felt it; the madness that possessed his soul. Every anger, envy, and hatred went into fueling this creature that he had become. He felt his face transform into a fanged snout, pointed ears growing from the top of his head. He roared, from the core of his being, he roared with all of the feral hell he could summon. Darkness clouded his vision as the inferno seized him with such ferocity and power that surged throughout his body. He could feel the yellow hoarding his once brown eyes, livid with pure malice. The very blood his wild heart pumped flowed with immense force, energizing him in an ungodly state of mind.

And then the kill. How overloaded his mind had become and could not distinguish. How he had lunged without thought, and stabbed her through the abdomen with his claws. How he had suddenly come to, the empty syringe sticking out of his abs. And how he had seen her lifeless body, staring into the distance. And then he knew; he had killed her. After everything they had been through _together_, he had killed her. He howled to the moon, his voice changing back.

"**_AAOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!_**"

* * *

"Anna!" The stranger above didn't expect Van to wake up so fast.

The vial that the stranger had in his hand was now pressing down on Van's tongue, allowing the yellowish liquid to pass.

"¡Calma abajo! No luches, bebida. Fácil, fácil."

Van couldn't recognize the language in his state of delirium. All he could do was swallow whatever the person was giving him for he was so weak. He felt a strong hand support the back of his neck as the liquid swirled down his throat. He tried to fight against whatever this person was doing, but his limp fingers could only cling onto the man's wrist. Through gulps, Van let out a cascade of tears, sniffing.

Slowly, as the liquid sank from the vial, Van's fingers slipped from the guy's wrist and fell back onto the furs. His neck went loose, and the stranger removed the vial from Van's teeth and tongue.

"Resto ahora." He removed Van's blood- soaked coat, vest and shirt, and began to sterilize and suture up Van's claw wound.

"Perdóneme." The man bowed his head as he went to work, a lock of white hair falling in front of his face.

His right arm was wrapped up and hanging in a sling.


	5. Blood, Venom and Killer Snowball

**Van Helsing Quirk # 3: **While I was translating English into Spanish, I had to make the white- haired dude begin the conversation, in Spanish, with "Who is he? That's Van Helsing.". Problem though. I had forgotten that when you conjugate the verb, "ir", which means "to go", I had forgotten that "van" was the conjugated form of "they go". So the sentence I had came up with was:

"Who is he? That is Go Helsing!"

Author's note: This better be a good chapter because I've just been given my Van Helsing injection today, so this better work!

_Spanish Translations:_

**¿Quien es él? Ése es Van Helsing.- **Who is he? That's Van Helsing.

**Brazo**- Arm

**Todavía dañado- **Still damaged

**No pareces bueno. ¿Es algo incorrecto?- **You don't look good. Is something wrong?

**¿Usted está viniendo abajo con algo?- **Are you coming down with something?

**Alta fiebre- **High fever

**¡Ayuda!- **Help!

**Demasiado lento- **Too slow

**A noche-** Last night

**No puedo decir- **I cannot say

* * *

"_¿Quien es él? Ése es Van Helsing_." Van's eyes and ears faded in and out.

"_¿Mi brazo? Todavía dañado. No puedo creer que él podría hacerlo._" He saw two images too blurred to be lined up with their colors; it was like they were puzzle pieces that refused to fit.

Like a weak rope, his stream of consciousness snapped and he blacked out. Whispers and waves of limp color flowed in Van's eyesight, communicating to him in ways he could not.

Was he dead?

No; why would he hear voices if he was dead?

He was breathing, that was a good sign. Being deprived of water was another thing. His lips were parched and his throat shrilly screamed every time he swallowed. He constantly went in and out of his sleep phase; sometimes he slept so deep saliva dripped from his mouth while some other times he was so light that a single breeze made him jolt awake then pass out again.

Each section of time that passed, Van didn't care if he was alive; he wanted to be dead. Ahora. His breathing had changed to short gasps and jets while sweat continued to materialize on his body. Every time he opened his eyes, light forced him to shut them closed. His side wound pulsed with his heart, a great knob forming where he had been stabbed.

"_No pareces bueno_. _¿Es algo incorrecto?_" Van felt his eyelids being gently pushed up, letting light glare into his mind.

He moaned slightly from the pain that still throbbed in his side, his body on fire.

"_¿Usted está viniendo abajo con algo?_" He felt a hand on his forehead.

"_Alta fiebre_. _Oh no. ¡¿Habría podido èl ser envenenado?! ¡¿Por mí?! ¡Esto es malo! ¡MUY malo! ¡Ayuda! ¡AYUDA!"_

Van felt his waist being revealed from underneath the covers.

"_What's going on? What are you doing?_" That inquisitive voice could only belong to…

Carl?

Carl, can you hear me?

Carl!

"_What do you mean he has been poisoned?! You're going to do WHAT?!_" Van felt a leather strap being tied tightly around his waist: a tourniquet.

He tried to speak, but his words only came out in moans and mumbles. He felt a hand cover his already closed eyes, and sensing from the vibes the stranger's hand was giving off, he was about to do something painful. **VERY** painful. Van struggled, but a second set of hands pinned him down. He managed to cough a few "no's" but that wouldn't save him. He felt the sudden ice of a blade against where his wound was, and in a quick slash and a hideous cry, blood began to pour from the reopened wound.

As he was drained of poisoned blood (apparently), he started to hear it. The sync of two heartbeats. One was his own, pumping out crimson, but the other…

Wild.

Untamed.

Feral.

Carnivorous.

Bloodlust.

His.

Van screamed, but that's not what came out. What came out horrified everyone, even himself. It wasn't a scream; it was a wolf's howl.

**……………..**

He shifted his head around in his sleep, his bandaged arm resting on his forehead. He felt a small tongue starting to lick his face. He tried to swat it away, but apparently his aim was off, for it still licked his nose.

"Mmmmuhh, get off…"

"Van Helsing."

"Bug off…"

"Van Helsing? Are you awake?"

"Uhhhhh…vampires…."

"What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

Van's eyebrows twitched, and he suddenly shot up in his bed.

"Where is it?!" He was suddenly glaring face- to- face with a frumpy looking Snowball.

"Huh? Did you bang your head on something?" A sudden lightheadedness caught Van by surprise and he fell backwards, but Carl caught him just in time.

"Careful. You've lost a lot of blood to last night, but the poison is gone!" Now that Carl mentioned it, his side wasn't hurting as much.

Van lay back down, running a hand through his wavy hair.

"What….happened?"

"You were bled last night."

"**BLED**?!"

"Yes. He said that you have been poisoned. So we had to bleed it out of you. He's says your fine now."

"Who's "he"."

"Hee ees talking about me." Van gaped.

Standing before him was the man cloaked in white.

"Well, seence we are not playing facades anymore…" The stranger removed the turban of cloth that covered his head, but his lower face was still covered.

He had a slender face, white locks of hair foresting his crystal blue eyes. Strange tattoos covered where his cheekbones were, and in the center of his forehead, where two white bangs haloed it, was the outline of an ankh. His eyes had a sharp edge, darting around every few seconds.

"What's your name?"

The stranger bowed.

"Me llamo es Scorpion."

"Sorry?"

"My name is Scorpion."

"Oh, that's what you were saying."

Scorpion smacked his head.

"Well, my name is-" started Carl.

"Lucky yu survived from a noche."

"Well, don't mind me." Carl scuffled off.

Van took in his surroundings. He was lying down on a mattress entirely made of furs from some creature, soft to his touch. Above him was a support pole holding up a canvas tent. Gentle breezes past through the tent flap, brushing up against his unshaven cheeks. Carpets and rugs of all sorts layered the ground, throw pillows littering here and there.

He tried to lift his torso up, but from the pain and sudden lack of air, all he could do was gasp and fall back again.

"Yu won't bee able tu moove for ai while. Yu 'ave lost too much blood tu last night."

Van managed to breathe, "_What..?_"

"Yu had been poisoned by ah desert creature; thei symptoms showed up rather late. But we were able to save yu in time." Scorpion knelt down beside Van to check his wounds.

Van gritted his teeth and grunted in pain as Scorpion peeled back the bandages around his waist.

"Demasiado lento." Scorpion pulled out a triangular shaped vial, and pulling off one of his gloves, he dipped two fingers into the concoction resting in the container.

"Thees might feel cold at first." He lightly smeared the salve over Van's wound.

"Ah!" Van's torso twitched in shock, "What is that? Ice- in- a- bottle or something?"

Scorpion's facial mask crinkled in a grin.

"Eet ees ah painkeeller." Scorpion gently rewrapped Van's side, "I will leave yu be for ai while."

"Wait a minute." Scorpion turned around.

"¿Si?"

"What was with all of the commotion in the cell house?" Scorpion grinned again.

"No puedo decir."

"Huh?"

"I cannot say."

"Why not?"

"Porque está para mí a saber y usted a nunca. Adios." Scorpion ducked under the flap.

"Hey! HEY!" Van gave up and stared at Snowball, who gave him a look of disdain as she sat upon his lap as though it were her throne.

"What are you looking at?" The cat turned its furry snout upwards in arrogance.

Van irritably shifted his legs, and the cat sank its claws into the fur, claiming Van's flesh as well.

"_YEOW_!"

"**MROW**!"

"**_Come here, you_**-!"

"**_MEEEOOOWWW!! RRAOO_**!!"

"**YAAHHHHH**!"

Outside, Scorpion was trying his hardest not to laugh. It hurt his arm too much.

* * *

Van Helsing getting his ass whooped by a cat = ouch.

**_I GOT THE VAN HELSING SOUNDTRACK!! I AM IN COMPLETE DOMINATION!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!! _**{Ehem} Sorry. Sugar high.

Well, stay tuned for another chapter and VH quirk of the day! Bye bye!

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V----- Please insert an amazingly great review to brighten Kaiyuga's day (And continue) (And save Van Helsing from the psychopath cat, Snowball)


	6. Scorpion's Poison

****

Van Helsing Helsing Quirk # 7: When I saw the movie for the first time (opening day), my friends and I noticed a lot of horses that materialized out of thin air and never drew back from whence they came. And mostly…they were never ridden. Except over long distances ( I mean LONG; the Romanian journey must have taken a week or so). So, my friend leaned over to me and whispered, "_Where did those horses come from_?"

I answered, "_I dunno. Maybe they had an Avis around or something_."

And that was the birth of the term "Avis horse".

Every time we saw a horse on the screen, my friends and I would whisper in unison "_AVIS HORSE_!"

* * *

Van Helsing cracked his neck as he adjusted his shirt. His coat, vest and hat were nowhere in sight, but he knew they wouldn't have taken them for…whoever the people were around here. He'd have to shoot their heads off.

"Oh, Van Helsing. Are you well?" Carl was walking over to help him to the entrance.

"I've had better, Carl. Are you alright?"

"Just dehydration, but I should be fine now. You gave us all a shock a week ago. What was that?"

"What was what?" Van Helsing had trouble walking to the entrance.

"Well, when you were administered the cut for the bleeding procession, you screamed. But not like any I've heard before. Almost….wolfish…" Van Helsing's eyes widened slightly.

"Are you sure lack of water wasn't going to your head?"

"Well, I suppose so. But, um...to tell you our location, well." Van Helsing already pulled back the flap and was staring out at a bizarre but beautiful landscape.

Well for one, there was sand as far as the eye could reach. But the dunes were gently curved like a Sidewinder's path, puffs of sand gently blowing to the breeze. Evidently, this wasn't the only tent. Van Helsing was looking at a village of them, some without frontal flaps (marking them as stores of some sort) and those with them, but were tattooed to show which home was theirs. A rather large oasis sat snugly in a corner of the place. What loomed over the village was what caught Van Helsing's eye.

It was a sunken temple, stones strew about its entrance. The very doorway made him feel like he was gravitating towards what lay inside. Four ruined columns supported the alcove into the temple, each with their arms crossed and a faded animal head. There was a jackal head, a falcon's, a cat's and a snake's. Each was holding the trinkets of the pharaoh: the flail and crook. Van Helsing was captivated at the sight, just staring at the statues of long since past.

"Hola! Van Helsing!" Scorpion was walking up to him as though he was an old friend.

Behind him followed four other inhabitants, though they walked with an air of authority. On their faces, their tattoos were different. One had a Shen on his forehead, one had a pair of Udjats on her cheeks, and one had a large Sekhem running down the middle of his face, the red paint glistening in the sun. The last one had three Sas, two going down her cheeks and one down the bridge of her nose.

"I see yu are feeling well, hermano. Bienvenidos a Orahk Telkset." He placed his hands of Van Helsing's shoulders.

"I'll survive. Where are we?" He shifted slightly.

"Ae place called Orahk Telkset. Me company here asks what yu are doing en Egypt."

"Uh, I'm here on a personal account."

"El está aquí porque el es perdió. (He is here because he is lost.)"

> The one with the Sekhem down his face questioned his response.

"Sakmet heere asks what for."

"Ummm. Can't say."

"El no puede recordar porque el se cayó en su cabeza. (He can't recall because he fell on his head)." The group snickered.

"I think your friend here just made fun of us." Carl didn't trust these people; it was either their tattoos or their muscle tone that freaked him out. He couldn't decide.

"What did you tell them?"

"¿Qué?"

"What did you tell them?"

"That yu were lost en thei desert and was on important matters." Van Helsing could sense he was lying, but he didn't know Spanish well enough.

"Sakmet says yu are allowed to stay por a peeriod of time, under one condition. If yu do leave, yur memory is ours to claim. We cannot 'ave anyone that ees not welcome in thes place."

> Van Helsing shrugged; it wasn't like he was going to lose any precious memory.

………..

The evening sun set fire to the sandy horizon as Van Helsing and Carl were invited into Scorpion's tent.

"Snowball! Aw, come heere." Scorpion scooped up the white cat in his arms, pampering the creature as if she were royalty.

She looked at Van Helsing and threw her snout up into the air as if to scoff at him in arrogance. Van Helsing glared at the creature, and placed his hand over the highly sensitive area that she had scratched; his face turning slightly red.

"You personas are such 'orrible caretakers. You left thes cat tu bee slaughtered en thei butcher houses! Luckily, Ie saved eet."

"Damn. That's a shame." The cat swiped at Van Helsing's wounded area, just missing as he threw his hat over the spot. Scorpion giggled.

"Oh, Ie know what happeened with yu and Snowball aquí. In Egeeptian culture, cats are treated like gods." Snowball gave him a crafty look as she purposefully snuggled in Scorpion's arms.

"Help." Van Helsing decided to sit down on one of the makeshift chairs that were basically pillows covered in a carpet covered in more pillows.

He nearly toppled back on the seat because of how light the pillows were. Thankfully, balance was on his side, and he adjusted himself. Scorpion poured the two of them tiny glasses full of a lemony tasting liquid mixed with honey. Scorpion took none for himself.

Carl looked at his cup, closed his eyes, and swallowed it in one gulp. He started to hack as though he had just drank a whiskey. He covered his mouth, and wiped off any excess.

"So, Van Helsing. Can you, eef yu do not mind, tell me why yu are heere? Truly?"

He sighed as he took a sip, and squinted to get use to the taste. It actually wasn't that bad after three sips; his throat wasn't crying for water anymore and it softened his neck. Scorpion watched him take his first sip, his eyes fixed.

"Sour?"

> Van Helsing shook his head.

"I'm really not allowed to tell you about my business." Scorpion looked puzzled.

"Ie save your life, and all Ie ask in reeturn is a leettle bit of information."

"Sheesh! Vampires, mummies…anything else more impertinent than them?!"

"Hang on. Mummies?"

"We are here to vanquish the Mummy that has been terrorizing Cairo for centuries." Carl wanted no more of being ignored.

"Go on." Van Helsing went back to drinking his beverage.

"Well, we had heard that Cairo was being terrorized by something called The Desert Spirit." Scorpion's eyes dilated slightly.

> Carl stopped to yawn deeply.

"And?"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that people were in need of assistance. So that's when we came in." Van Helsing started to get a warm feeling inside of him, as though he had just woken up.

He swirled what was left in the cup, and took it all in one last gulp. Scorpion's eyes diverted from Van Helsing's hand to Carl, who was already sinking in his seat.

"Yu were saying, Carl?"

"Well……..we heard that some group needed…..{yawn}…oh, excuse me, some help and……….uhhhhhhhhh………" The cup slid out of Carl's loose grasp and thunked against the carpet.

"Carl? Carl!" Van Helsing rushed over to catch him before he fell to the ground.

"What's wrong with him?! What did you- ?!" And then it clicked.

Scorpion's expression, the glass of lemon honey, and the fact that Scorpion had not a drop. They had been drugged. Scorpion had taken none for himself; that should have been enough for him to rouse his suspicions, but no. He had to place trust in a complete stranger. He felt himself start to go woozy.

"You…why?!" Van Helsing staggered to get up, but he fell to his knee.

"_You wouldn't understand_…" Scorpion's image swam out of focus.

Van Helsing tried to fight off the sedative, but he fell face first, out cold. Scorpion hummed a small tune as he got up, placed the empty cups back on the silver tray, placed Carl back in his bed over to a corner of the tent, and lifted Van Helsing onto his back while grasping his arm to hold him in place.

"The reasons are too complicated for yu to comprehend at thei moment, but Ie think, after this test ees over, you will know." The stars began to wield the sky as Scorpion walked down the cobblestone path and stopped before the entrance to the temple.

The torches were lit, casting eerie shadows upon the column faces. Scorpion took a deep breath, and entered into the alcove underneath the monument.

…………

> If Van Helsing had been awake, he would have run.

He had been stripped of his vest and shirt, leaving his chest bare to the desert cold. Small puffs of his breath lightly streamed out of his mouth and nose, but he didn't twitch to the cold. He was lying down on a stone embalming table, an unseen light glaring down upon him. Ten shadows circled him, each wearing a ceremonial mask.

Scorpion walked up to Van Helsing, and ran his fingers over the bite scar he had had for sixth months now.

"¿Todo listo? (Is everything ready?)"

> The man wearing the Scarab mask nodded.

"I must know….everything about him……We wouldn't want heem to lay bounty to…. _heem_…."

"Scorpio…"

"¡Sakmet, le he dicho ya! Si debemos ahorrarlo...y yo, debemos tomar ciertas medidas. (Sakmet, I have already told you! If we are to save him…and me, we must take certain measures.)" Scorpion pulled off his right glove and stared at his wrist.

> It was covered in stitches, holding his hand to his arm.

( I should have lost this.) thought Scorpion, (But, because of him, and live this way, under his command.)

"¡Comience la anexión! (Begin the annexation!)"

> If he were conscious to the sound of those words, Van Helsing would be high- tailing it to the next boat out of Egypt.

* * *

ARGH! OKAY, FINE!! I'LL WRITE AS "Van Helsing"! HAPPY!?! Sheesh! Sorry, been having a bad day, BUT IT'S ANNOYING AFTER AWHILE!!

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	7. Calamity and Delirium Go Hand in Hand

**Van Helsing Quirk #10: **In the scene where Anna and Van Helsing were striding through what was left of the windmill {coughsleepyhollowcough}, I noticed Van Helsing picked up a salvaged bottle of Absinthe (Amazing as it might be, for the **ENTIRE** windmill kinda **BLEW UP, **leaving nothing to spare, but apparently, it didn't want to destroy its alcohol supply).

Well, the first thing that came to mind was, "_Great, Moulin Rouge; now we're going to have green pixies fluttering in our faces singing "The Sound of Music_."

Though, when Van Helsing placed his hat on Anna to keep her out of the rain (and my friends mourn for that scene we dubbed "Van Un- Cooling His Hat"), the bottle that the Absinthe was kept in made me think, as Anna was nonchalantly taking a swig to show "Ha! I can do it!" (And me wishing desperately that she would pass out from that one sip), "_Hmm…Listerine booze_."

That's when they fell.

The power of minty freshness can really put you to the test, if you get my drift.

* * *

Shadows danced in his groggy vision as he tried to make out what the situation was. Flames and figures crowded his sight, strange green and gold leaf. He felt the bite of cold, but it didn't wake him up. He tried to fight through the boundaries of sleep, but temptation gave in, and he fell back.

Scorpion tore his finger on a ceremonial dagger, and began to trace out special hieroglyphics onto Van Helsing's body with his blood. He drew a pair of Udjats on his clavicles, a large Ankh on his torso supported by a Ka, and set of Uraeuses on his temples. Stopping the bleeding, Scorpion now placed trinkets on Helsing's body in certain areas.

He placed an Ushabtis on Helsing's sternum, and another, more materialized, ankh on his throat. He also left an Ieb over where Van Helsing's heart was, and lined the symmetry of his body with scarab charms. And last, he balanced a Maat Feather charm on Helsing's forehead. Scorpion now cut Van Helsing, and mixed his blood with his own on his hand.

Carefully placing his bloodied hand on Van Helsing's forehead, his eyes rolled shut, and the ten ceremonial priests began their incantation, slowly circling back and forth as their voices picked up. As they went deeper into their chant, their voices grew passionate and their movements more rigorous. Van Helsing's hand twitched, but he still lay inert on the table. Scorpion suddenly flinched but he didn't remove his hand from Van Helsing's forehead, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.

The bite mark on Van Helsing began to bleed.

The priests were now literally swinging around the table, their arms raised to the ceiling in chanting praise. They went in a continuous cycle: Arms raised, knees and head to the floor, bow once on their knees, and rise up again with outstretched cupped hands. Something blue and wispy started to exit from Van Helsing's slightly opened mouth and snaked around the Ushabtis. It started to mold itself into a shape, starting with the feet first. Even though Scorpion's eyes were not open, he could see the shape forming in his mind.

Next came its strong legs, fur coating them in thick layers. He could see the claws practically grow from its powerful paw- like toes, fur tufts sprouting from between each toe.

Van Helsing's shape began to jerk and transform. Blood seeped from the reopened wound as though the mark was fresh.

The shape's muscular torso was almost completed, sleek fur rippling down over the muscles. Scorpion was both horrified and mystified. The blue image was now almost done with the shoulders, starting on the thick neck. Stray hairs starting to grow through Scorpion's hand and Van Helsing's face.

The priests weren't helping at this point; they were now crying at the top of their lungs, bowing continuously now as they repeated their last phrase.

The creature's eyes began to form, fur encircling them. Then the snout began to weave itself onto its face, fangs protruding through deep blue gums. Then its pointed ears were mounted to the top of its head. The eyes began to get its toxic yellow tinge and finally, in a blinding flash of blue light, Van Helsing's past image was animated. It squalled at the priests, saliva flying from its now bright pink and black jaws.

As it roared, Scorpion and Van Helsing let out their own, fangs growing from their mouths. Van Helsing's body arched upwards while it let out a tremendous bellow. Within seconds, a symphony of howls and squalls flew from the deepest parts of the temple, making the torches shudder in fear.

Inside, the image was now swept around Van Helsing and Scorpion like a soul whirlwind. Each slowly raising their heads to the ceiling, they let out a symbiotic cry to the night, setting the whirlwind ablaze. With one last ounce of sanity, Scorpion wrenched his hand from Van Helsing's forehead, and as he fell back. Van Helsing's unconscious body slumped back down on the table, a bloody handprint smeared on his forehead. Both were breathing hard, but Van Helsing was twitching constantly.

"Scorpio." The priestess wearing the Anubis mask helped Scorpion up.

"Estoy bien. (I'm okay)." He stared back at Van Helsing's shuddering form, and suddenly felt a swell of pity and sorrow within himself.

"Ahmbahro…" He told the priestess to bring Van Helsing back to his tent, but to clean him of the blood first.

The priestess and three others lifted Van Helsing's body and carried him out top the Oasis that lay near the temple. The one wearing the mask of Khepri grabbed Van Helsing's mane of brown hair and began to dunk him continuously. Until the Anubis priestess shook her head, and gently washed Van Helsing's face of blood. Even though his face was covered, the Anubis priestess could sense he was glaring at her.

Van Helsing was redressed and placed back in the tent him found himself in. He moaned slightly while snuggling into the furs. The Anubis priestess removed her Nemes godmask and revealed quite a seductive face. It was the one with the Sas on her face. She scanned him over with sympathetic eyes, and left him alone.

**…………**

_Lub- dub, lub- dub, lub- dub… _

_ Blood was on his hands and hair._

_Lub- dub, lub- dub, lub- dub…_

_ A body lay at his feet._

_Lub- dub, lub- dub, lub- dub…_

_ Someone was coming for him._

_Lub- dub, lub- dub, lub- dub…_

_"Ohhhh Gabrieeellllll…"_

Stay away, you deranged psychopath…

"_How long has it been? Three, four- hundred years?_"__

How about "never"?

"_Allow me to…reintroduce myself._"

No.

"_I am Count-_"

Stop it.

"_Vladislus_-"

I said stop it!

"_Draculia_. _Born, in 1442. Murdered, in 1462_…"

I don't care!

"_Your memories_."

Things are better left forgotten.

"_A few details from your thwarted past_..."

Thing are….better forgotten….

"_Do you want me to refresh your memory_?"

Things…are forgotten…

"_Gabriieeelllllllll_…"

**STOP IT!**

"_We are part of the same game, Gabriel…_"

Shut up.

"_We are just on different sides of the board_…"

Shut up!

"_I will give you your memories back…Your life_…_Gabriel, don't you want it_?"

I SAID SHUT UP!!

"_Gabrieeelllll…_"

Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, **SHUT UP, SHUT UP, ****_SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP!!!_**

Van Helsing jerked awake, sweat drenching his body. He suddenly jumped, wiping furiously at his arms and chest. Where was that scent coming from?! BLOOD?! Van Helsing tried as hard as he could, but in his subconscious- state of mind, all he could see was him soaked in blood and a heartbeat reverberating in his ears.

He delirium stopped short when he heard a set of feet outside. Waking up, Van Helsing carefully looked through his tent flap. It was still well dark, the stars still gleaming in the night canvas. With observant eyes, Van Helsing saw Scorpion staggering towards a tent nearby, bending over as though he were to throw up any second. His breathing was hoarse and dry, and sometimes he stopped and keeled over while crying out in pain like he had just been punched in the stomach. Van Helsing watched him disappear into a tent mark with an Udjat, and came out some time later, this time being helped to his tent by a female inhabitant, speaking softly in his ear. The way he was walking, where the girl was supporting him…Had he been drugged?

His questions were answered when the two of them entered his tent (Van Helsing pretended to be asleep) and lay Scorpion down in his pile of furs. Scorpion's eyes fluttered briefly, and he passed out. The girl would have walked out of the tent without hesitation but for the one motion that caught her eye.

She hadn't thought Van Helsing was pretending to be asleep, but one twitch of his finger gave him away. She leaned down so low that her nose was barely touching against his. She stared into his face hard, her breathing brushing down his cheeks.

Van Helsing tried as hard as he could not to react, but he could almost see the girl's face scowling at him. He tried, he really did. But he couldn't help it. He broke down and gave a smile before snickering. That's when he was sedated BIG time. He didn't wake up until tomorrow evening because of his reaction.

Great, he thought before falling unconscious again. Back into Dreamhell.

**…………**

Van Helsing slowly opened his eyes, making sure he wouldn't burn his eyes from the sudden orange sunlight that happened to shout, "SURPRISE!" in his face.

"Muhhh, Carl?"

No answer.

"Carl, are you there?"

"No, but Ie am." The crystal blue eyes started to come into focus, "Yu reelly don't need tu shout, yu know."

"KAH! Vampires!" His sudden explosion of memory mixed with fact set him on a reel of hysteria, "Where is he?! Where?! What?! AHH!" Van grabbed his head.

What was going **on**?! It felt as though someone had set loose to all of the memories he knew, from Cian McDougal to Anna to Dracula to Velkin. Everything came in a meshed tumble; screams, laughs, crys, roars, squalls. And then the feelings.

"_Van Helsing! VAN HELSING_!!" Scorpion finally resolved to the only thing he could to: He slapped Van Helsing clear in the face with the back of his hand. Van Helsing's face was still turned in the wake of the slap, but his eyes were wide, finally taking in his area. His breathing came in and out in short gasps, his heart pounding.

Carefully, Scorpion pushed Van Helsing back down with his hand to Van's forehead, and called in Carl.

"Watch over him while I go get someone." Scorpion left in a hurry.

"Van Helsing, what's wrong?" Van Helsing was just staring at the ceiling, slowly recapping what had just happened.

Why did he have a break- down? He had had worse nightmares before. No, not as bad as these were becoming. Scorpion came back, out of breath, with the girl that had the Udjats on her cheeks. She spoke comforting words as she massaged his temples, calming him down rather surprisingly. When Van Helsing finally got his act together, she and Scorpion walked outside the tent, and she told him a piece of grim news she had heard from her connections.

(They are coming for you. You must leave. We will not be able to stop him. Take Helsing; he may be your only salvation.)" Scorpion tried to fight against it, but he looked up to this woman like she was an older sister.

(N/A: Sorry, I don't know Egyptian, so I'll write it already "translated", 'kay? Danka!)

" Neihko…" He bowed his head, but he knew she was right.

"¿Cuando? (When?)"

"(As soon as possible. Today, if best.)" She placed two fingers on his ankh forehead.

"(He is calling for you. You must not give in!)"

"¡Yo se! (I know!)" Scorpion swatted her hand away.

Realizing what he had just done, he bowed his head in forgiveness. How could he have slapped the hand of the high priestess?

**…………**

"Wee must leave. Ahora." Scorpion was saddling up for the trip the next day.

"Where are we going? What are we going to do?" Van Helsing had gotten his arsenal, hat and coat back, and was already sliding his gloves on.

Scorpion grinned through his mask.

"Mummy hunting."

"I like the sound of that!" The three of them were on horses; Van Helsing was riding his recuperated black stallion, Carl was riding his chestnut, and Scorpion rode on a silver mare.

Scorpion shouted a farewell sign to his village, which had all gathered up at the entrance.

"Allah hu mana!" The village returned with the same.

(N/A: That's really the only Egyptian I know (Mummy Returns; I know).)

They turned their horses and raced out into the desert.

They should have known who was waiting for them outside of safety.

* * *

Right, just wanting to clear up something. Now, some folks had written to me "Is Van Helsing going to meet up with the O' Connells?" Well, here's your answer. Van Helsing, as I'm writing it, takes placed in 1888. The Mummy and Mummy Returns takes place in 1923 and 1933. I think we have a problem there. So, sorry; this is a Van Helsing solo mission (besides Scorpion and Carl).

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	8. Sandpool

After many bowls of neopolitian ice cream, lonely nights and lack of muse, IT HAS RETURNED TO ME! I know this is short, but this is the equivelent of kicking myself in the butt to get things moving again. Wake up, fans, cuz here we come!

* * *

Scorpion drew up his reins, his horse neighing and coming to a halt in the ocean of sand. He drew up his canteen, taking a deep swig as he watched Van Helsing and Carl slowly catch up.

"Dios, what the hell am I going to do?" He looked down at his sutured wrist again before Van Helsing called out to him.

"-more you run off like that, the more likely I'll kill you on suspicion."

"I'll keep that in mind." Scorpion's voice was curt, Van Helsing taken aback before striding alongside his white haired colleague.

"What's making you so crabby; the heat too much for you?" He still hadn't forgotten the drugs Scorpion slipped in his drink.

He had forgotten what happened afterwards, though. It wasn't important to him; he'd forgotten so much, like his birthday.

"If you want to find the mummy, I suggest you shut your antics and start opening your eyes."

"Why did you drug us?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Why did you drug us!" Van Helsing gripped the collar of Scorpion's cloak tightly, nearly pulling him off his horse.

"Please…Helsing, let go…you're choking me." He gasped, gripping at Helsing's arm.

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't." He snarled, his upper teeth bared.

"Because –gasp-…you'll die out here…you don't even know…where…we are, do you?" Van Helsing hesitated for a moment before he roughly let go of Scorpion, allowing him air.

"We drugged you because we needed to keep our society safe. If he knew where we were…" he trailed off.

"What?" Scorpion's eyes widened.

Van Helsing turned around on his horse to see something stir in the horizon. It looked to be a swarm of some kind, before it rose in tremendous volume. A soft rumbling was heard before it grew in a howling cacophony. Winds began to pick up, the horses braying and stomping.

"What?" Carl looked at both stupefied men before he dared take a look.

He screamed, which set Scorpion and Helsing into adrenaline mode. Both dug their heels into their beasts, the horses bolting in the opposite of the approaching sandstorm. Carl was hurtling to keep up, holding close to his caol as the sand rose in blasting sheets that blotted out the sun.

"Ride, you fools! RIDE!" Scorpion rose up on his saddle like a jockey, his cloak billowing out behind him as Van Helsing pressed his hat firmly to his head.

He started to notice how this storm wasn't behaving like one. Instead of swallowing everything in its path, it started to create a circle around the three riders. Scorpion's face switched to panic as he saw the sand ring close around them, pulling on his reins as his head darted left and right.

Helsing and Carl stopped short, Carl whispering prayers as Van tried to find a way out. The horses pulled close together, the sandstorm closing in slowly. Dunes burst open, revealing what looked to be asps depicted in sand. They squalled at the three of them, Carl looking to pass out as Scorpion and Van Helsing glared at them.

"Servants."

"What?" Scorpion drew his scimitar.

"Whatever weapons you have, use them." By pure instinct, Van drew out his pistols as one of the asps decided to strike.

He fired, the bullet causing the illusion to shatter, but as soon as that one died, another formed. Van noticed how the bullet created a gap in the sand wall, and it clicked.

"Carl, Scorpion. Distract these creatures until I've made an escape!"

"What! Bait? ME?" Carl sounded more outraged than shocked.

An asp took that precise moment to bite Carl, sand solidifying like rock as it grazed his clothes. Scorpion had been quick enough to decapitate it before Carl's arm became a snack.

Helsing drew out his shotgun, cocking the gauge and firing rapidly. The lead bullets split apart and the sand recoiled. More asps popped out of the ground, larger and more life-like as they tried to snap at them. Scorpion was flailing his sword to and fro, hacking off desert snakes as Carl was frantically searching for one of the scrolls he had packed.

"Come on! Let's go!" They turned their horses to the temporary gap Helsing had created before the ground suddenly jerked and shuddered.

"What the-!" His alarm grew as the ground beneath them began to swirl, a giant whirlpool of shredded rock swallowing them.

The snakes vanished, almost cackling as the three tried to escape. Sand buried on top of them like a hideous jaw, cutting out light and air as they started to fall. Carl was shrieking, Scorpion and Van Helsing yelling as they tried to grab onto anything in the dark.

Scorpion was the first to silence. Helsing heard a sickening crack against stone before Carl was silenced soon after. Helsing gritted his teeth and felt the sharp impact of something smooth and carved. Blood poured down his forehead, his vision swirling gently as he could see flames ignite somewhere. He tried to stay conscious, but the hit on his head was too much for him.

He bent over, throwing up before he passed out.


	9. Lair 1: Sekmet's Paladins

_Gabriel._

His head hurt.

_Wake up, Gabriel._

No.

_I said, wake up!_

His eyelids were forced open, his sight coming in contact with the high domed ceiling of a castle. The stone beneath him was wet and cold, sparks casting off from bent wires. He realized he was wearing nothing but a patch of cloth over his crotch.

_Thought you killed me, didn't you, Gabriel?_

A pair of cold blue eyes, colder than death, leered upside down in Helsing's view. His heartbeat skipped three beats; he leapt to his feet, backing away.

"No, you're dead."

"Correct."

"…"

"Gabriel, I'm already dead. You can't kill what's already dead. You, of all people, should know that."

He started to back away, the vampire's grin ever so piercing, so malignant. His black locks swayed gently as he took a step towards Helsing one at a time.

"No, stay away." Dracula sighed nonchalantly.

"You have yet to give me back my ring." He grinned again, this time his fangs were grown out.

Helsing's eyes widened, his instinct going for his pistol holster when he realized he had nothing. Dracula squalled at him, his face pulled taut as his lips peeled back to reveal fanged jaws. His coat billowed out into his wings, his cool and seductive demeanor replaced by hell's melting pot. Helsing tried to transform into his wolf form, when his heart suddenly faltered. He tumbled over, gripping his chest as he gasped for air.

Dracula cackled in his primal vocal cords, shaking his shaggy mane. He fluttered towards Helsing, gripping him by his throat as he pulled him up. He screamed in his face, fangs outstretched as his tongue rolled out.

"I owe you." he grinned as his fangs sunk into Van Helsing's neck, his pulse flowing into his mouth.

Helsing hung, paralyzed as he felt his blood drain out.

"I win, Gabriel."

He shrieked, his body writhing as a sleek furred hand clawed into Dracula's face. He let go of Helsing, licking his mouth clean as he rubbed his cheek. Helsing struggled to stand, the moon glaring behind him as his eyes were consumed in a toxic beryl.

"Some things are better left forgotten!" His skin fell off, black fur and raw hatred sprouting underneath.

He charged for Dracula, but instead his claws went right through Anna's gut. His eyes widened as he felt the prick of a needle, his mind screaming that it wasn't happening; none of this was happening! Not again! He could see the light in her eyes die, feel the warmth of her blood in his hands.

_DEAR GOD NO! NO! **NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**_

"CHRIST GOD NO!"

"Silence, you fool!" A gloved hand smother Helsing, forcing him to keep still.

Carl was dabbing Van Helsing's forehead with a damp cloth, Scorpion holding his mouth shut as he looked around.

"Don't you realize where we are?" His cool ice blue eyes were filled with worry and calculation.

Only after his fleeting delirium pass did Van Helsing realize where they were. Torches held by the decaying statues of Anubis were blazing a hallway. Scorpion, though still, was quietly muttering prayers in Spanish and Arabic. Carl was standing aside one of the statues, reading the hieroglyphics on the walls with fascination.

"Interesting…very interesting…"

"We must move along, as quickly as possible." Van Helsing, in the dim glow of the flames, could see that Scorpion was actually shaking for once.

"What's bitten your tail, Scorpion?" Van Helsing gave him a genial smile and patted him on the shoulder as he went over to his horse, now dead.

He signed and crossed his upper torso, kneeling down to see what he could salvage. He heaved out his shotgun, his crossbow, the ankh and-

"REOW!"

"Christ God; DAMMIT, SCORPION!" Snowball had clawed into Van Helsing's palm.

The white cat fluffed its fur and trotted alongside Scorpion, who seemed to snap out of his hysteria to pet the creature. He looked behind him and chuckled, Van Helsing gripping his hand tightly as Scorpion walked towards Carl. His eyes looked misty now, scanning the hieroglyphics without much interest.

"Find something?" Carl was ecstatic, murmuring translations under his breath.

"Oh my god, we're in the tomb of Ramses II!"

"Meaning?"

"We're desecrating the burial ground for one of the most important Egyptian pharaohs! That's like breaking the Rose Window-" Helsing shot Carl a menacing look, his nose wrinkled in a snarl.

Carl squeaked and bumbled before Scorpion looked ahead.

"Hush. If you wish to keep your souls in check, I suggest you both be quiet whilst we find a way out of this tomb." Helsing noticed Scorpion's body was quivering as though someone had suppressed a nerve.

"Scorpion?"

"HUSH!" He hissed, looking at the floor.

A sudden, low hissing noise crawled up from the floor, curling around itself. It rose up from its coiled nest, fanning out the skin flaps on either side of its head.

"King cobras, protectors of the pharaohs." Scorpion stretched out his right arm, prayer beads dangling from in-between his fingers.

Carl and Helsing watched quietly as Scorpion muttered an Arabic phrase under his breath. The snake reared back, fangs bared as Scorpion came closer. He sped up his whisper, his eyes focused on the snake. It slowly lulled and rested his head on top of his body, allowing Scorpion and the others to pass. Bowing with his hands together, he gently passed the snake.

"Come on, move. We don't have much time." Helsing gently eased himself past the serpent, Carl stiff as he pressed his back into the wall and slid past.

"Remind me to bring a flute next time." Helsing smirked as he walked past Scorpion, not catching the subtle glare on his face.

Sliding out the reel of his pistols, Helsing slid in two clear bullets filled with a luminous blue liquid. Cocking the hammer, he fired them at the ceiling, the liquid exploding and giving off a bright bluish white flare.

They were looking onto a giant mausoleum, giant stone sarcophagi covered in sand, dust and cobweb. Carl placed the hem of his sleeve over his nose, trying to blot out the reeking stench of decaying flesh. Scorpion's eyes were wide with awe, jangling the prayer beads in his fingers. Van Helsing scanned the area, noticing something on the wall beside the dilapidated entrance.

"Van Helsing, WAIT!" He took a step down into the vault.

The torches lining the wall suddenly burst into flame, casting shadows against the faces of screaming dead. Statues on either end of the room lit up, arms crossed with Sais gripped tightly in their anthropologic hands. Scorpion smacked his forehead lightly with his hand, dragging it down his covered face in furious exasperation.

"I don't know what dune you rolled down from, but when I say NO, you have to do so."

"Why do I have to take orders from you?" Van Helsing wasn't paying much attention to Scorpion's tantrum as Carl walked towards one of the statues.

He dusted off some sand, looking at the detail carved into the Sekhmet-faced guards.

"Huh, they're female. Interesting…" Carl read the inscriptions on their shoulders and armor, mumbling the translation under his breath.

"Since when were you in Egypt, Mr. Van Helsing? The time of the Neanderthal?"

"Since when do you know everything, "Meester" Scorpion?" Scorpion glowered, drawing out his scimitar.

"Oh both of you, quit it! You two are acting like little boys with toys! Geez."

"What are you reading, Carl?"

"Oh, just some insignia on these statues." Carl dusted away the cobwebs on one of the statues' faces, Scorpion's eyes widening as Carl came to a close on the translation.

"CHRIST, DON'T!"

"-and banish thine enemies cast in Ra's wake. Huh, funny translation." Scorpion stood, paralyzed as Carl gave him an odd look.

"What? Scorpion, are you alright? You've been tense ever since we-"

_-Crack-_

Carl blinked and looked back. A piece of stone was on the floor, a finger from the guard's clawed fists.

"That's strange."

"What is it, Carl?" Helsing's hands were reaching for his pistol holsters.

"A piece fell off. Oh well, I guess being stuck down here for…five…millen..i…a?" He felt hot, dank breath against the back of his neck, stone and sand crumpling to the floor.

"Carl, whatever you do-" Scorpion was trying to keep Carl calm, but it didn't work when he turned around and was staring straight into the yellow cat eyes of a Sekhmet guard, "DON'T PANICK!"

Carl screamed as the guard roared in his face, her legs breaking free of the stone exoskeleton. The other three guards' shells were shed off as they gripped their Sais tightly. One shouted in arabic, her fur haloed eyes narrowing.

All four of them held their blades at the ready closing in on Helsing, Scorpion and Carl.

The calm before the storm, everything felt surreal in the one second of non-violence. Helsing lunged for Carl, throwing him into the exit as the four guards charged for Scorpion and Helsing.

"Paladins of Sekhmet, the goddess of war!" Scorpion drew out his scimitar, hunched over slightly for balance.

The guards divided and conquered, two taking down Scorpion while the others two went for Helsing. Scorpion swung his blade, slicing at one of the guard's arms while punching the other one in the muzzle with his prayer beads woven in his hand.

Helsing whipped out his melee Tojo blades, coming in close combat with one guard as another tried to stab him in the side. He kicked the first guard off of him, slicing the other in the abdomen as he leapt on top of on of the sarcophagi. The warrior that had been kicked leapt up, snarling as her black and silver nemes was shattered. The other charged for Carl, roaring as Carl seized up.

"CARL!" Scorpion slit his thumb open, splattering blood on the back of the Sekhmet warrior.

She screamed, writhing as the blood burned into her back. She wheeled around, teeth bared and eyes narrowed as she stalked towards him. He swung his blade at her face, leaning back as she bit and broke his sword. He fell back, the cat anthro squalling in his face before her head was blown off. Sand and rock spilled onto Scorpion's lap.

"Carl, they're not dead!" The headless guard reared and charged for Helsing, the other leaping on top of the sarcophagus.

Scorpion grabbed the headless's ankle, yanking her back as Helsing leapt out of a sai's way. He tried to slash at the guard, but she knocked his Tojo blades out of his grip. His gauntlets slid onto his hands, gripping her wrist and breaking it as she punched him in the face.

"CARL, DO SOMETHING!" He was fumbling with the scrolls in the pack, trying to remember what it said.

"He who hears this scripture will, oh god, no! Uhm, um, he is- oh god, that's not it-"

"CARL!" The headless guard slammed her elbow into Scorpion's head twice, turning around and performing a lariat strike.

His body flew into the opposite wall, his back smashing into a stone torch as he passed out. The headless guard picked up her sai, loping towards him before a rock hit her in the shoulder. She "turned", seeing Carl throwing debris as her. She came towards him, pieces of her body falling off. Carl was hurling rock after rock before he picked up a skull.

"AH!" He fumbled and dropped it, not noticing the guard lunging for him.

He suddenly grabbed a scripture and shouted, "!" Her body exploded into sand, lying in a harmless heap as he stared at the paper.

On the papyrus was the inscription of a hawk with both the Lower and Upper Egyptian crowns. A scarab was soaring over his head, rays of gold sprouting from its body.

"Ra…and Khepri…HELSING! THE PENDANT!"

The other three had surrounded him, beating and slicing him. The pendant was clipped from his neck in the fray, sliding over at Carl's feet. He snatched it and held it up, shouting the word once more.

The guards cowered suddenly and backed down, mellowing out their rage before they became statues once more. Helsing swayed, his cheek and eye swollen from bruises as the corner of his lip was busted.

He slid off the sarcophagus, wiping off his Tojo blades as he looked in Scorpion's direction.

"Scorpion?" No answer.

Carl went over to check up on him when he gasped and withdrew.

"What's wrong?"

"He's gone! I can't find him!"


End file.
